I am giving her a name
Sep 11th, 2009
Digging around in my rubbish in overhauls and a cap. I am apprehensive to go and throw my rubbish away, just in case this suspicious looking bloke attacks me.
I take a second thought about throwing my rubbish bag away, but I can’t bare the thought of taking the bag back inside and having a face-off with Lexie’s soiled nappies. I am willing to take the risk, anything is better than those nappies (man, solids are a pain :) ), so I take the risk and walk toward the suspicious looking man.
On the way there I am planning my get away strategy in my mind. Okay I will jump over that 1m tree, roll over 4 times and run as fast as I can. (Yes I am just a tad bit paranoid).
I approach the suspicious looking man and I hear a soft. “Good morning madam”, and I think to myself; “man I should get more sleep”, cos this suspicious looking bloke sounds like a gentle lady. The suspicious looking bloke looks up and I stare into one of the most beautiful African ladies I have ever seen.
Immediately I feel at peace cos chicks are not aggressive, well most of the time anyways :)
I am shocked; and a bit relieved that it is a lady. Although this lady is disguised as a man, she is beautiful. She takes off her cap, no Clinique, no botox, no SPF 30 foundation, no laser cosmetics, she approaches me as if she is not worthy and I look at her and immediately get so angry, not at her, but at INJUSTICE! Why her God, and not me?
In those few seconds she stares into my eyes and it feels as if my heart is being ripped out from my chest, with the immense compassion I feel for this beautiful woman.
I ask her how she is and her reply is; “it is well with my soul”
I am speechless and fighting so hard to keep the tsunami of tears from gushing out my eyes.
I can’t remember exactly what my response was, because I had 1001 emotions, convictions and thoughts racing through my little brain.
I eventually compose myself, well only a little, I couldn’t contain the tears and I start chatting to her. This is one of those conversations that has changed my live forever. She has taught me more in just 30 minutes than all pod casts, books and itinerant preachers could ever teach me.
When I look into her dark eyes, I see so so much. I see determination, I see courage, I see love, I see peace, but above all I see STRENGTH. A strong woman, a woman of substance, a woman who really means it when she says it is well with her soul.
She glimpses to the side and as I am connecting with her one woman to another, I see her strength but I also I hear her heart, a heart that has had to live with so much grief that I wonder how it still manages to beat.
A heart who has had to face so many tragedies, just to mention a few:
* A single mom of 4
* Burried her 12 year old daughter this year
* Her 19 year old daughter is becoming a mommy very soon
* Makes about R500.00 on a good month
* Leaves her tin home at 4:30am to arrive to scratch in my rubbish at 6:00am, in order to miss the rush of all the people who all are after the “good rubbish”,
YOU GET GOOD RUBBISH?
* She leaves our complex at 6pm and gets home at 8pm.
* She prepares her things at her home and if a few hours gets up again to come scratch in my rubbish.
She tries to disguise her pain by laughing, but it is so evident in her eyes and in the wrinkles on her face.
If I had to live one day in her shoes, I would curl up like a baby and cry, cry, cry, cry until I can cry no more, and then I will start to scream until I can scream no more.
There’s a gentleness, gracefulness, quietness, and a beautiful peace about her that I don’t often see in so many woman with their died hair, tan can tan, gel nail tips, lengthened eye lashes, air con cars, 5000 m2 homes. That I don’t always see in my life :(
The odds are so against her, but she has defied them, those odds have been smashed too pieces by the strength of this woman.
Next time you drive by in your car (which by the way only 8% of the world’s population have), where was I? Oh yes next time you drive by “just another” lady scratching in yr rubbish, in your air conned car and think she’s not worth getting your attention, cos she’s just “another” one of the thousands. Know that she has a name, she has a heart, she has hopes, and she has dreams.
She is a person that needs an act of kindness; you might be the answer to her prayer.
HER NAME IS LIESBET!!
She is a woman of worth, she’s a woman of dignity, she is a woman of value, she is a Princess of our King, she’s a daughter, she’s a mother, she’s a grandmother.
She has a name and her name is Liesbet.
Yes, her occupation is to scratch in my rubbish, but she is far more qualified for living this life than I am.
SHE IS MY HERO
SHE IS MY ROLE MODEL
Did I mention, her name is Liesbet?
Digging around in my rubbish in overhauls and a cap. I am apprehensive to go and throw my rubbish away, just in case this suspicious looking bloke attacks me.
I take a second thought about throwing my rubbish bag away, but I can’t bare the thought of taking the bag back inside and having a face-off with Lexie’s soiled nappies. I am willing to take the risk, anything is better than those nappies (man, solids are a pain :) ), so I take the risk and walk toward the suspicious looking man.
On the way there I am planning my get away strategy in my mind. Okay I will jump over that 1m tree, roll over 4 times and run as fast as I can. (Yes I am just a tad bit paranoid).
I approach the suspicious looking man and I hear a soft. “Good morning madam”, and I think to myself; “man I should get more sleep”, cos this suspicious looking bloke sounds like a gentle lady. The suspicious looking bloke looks up and I stare into one of the most beautiful African ladies I have ever seen.
Immediately I feel at peace cos chicks are not aggressive, well most of the time anyways :)
I am shocked; and a bit relieved that it is a lady. Although this lady is disguised as a man, she is beautiful. She takes off her cap, no Clinique, no botox, no SPF 30 foundation, no laser cosmetics, she approaches me as if she is not worthy and I look at her and immediately get so angry, not at her, but at INJUSTICE! Why her God, and not me?
In those few seconds she stares into my eyes and it feels as if my heart is being ripped out from my chest, with the immense compassion I feel for this beautiful woman.
I ask her how she is and her reply is; “it is well with my soul”
I am speechless and fighting so hard to keep the tsunami of tears from gushing out my eyes.
I can’t remember exactly what my response was, because I had 1001 emotions, convictions and thoughts racing through my little brain.
I eventually compose myself, well only a little, I couldn’t contain the tears and I start chatting to her. This is one of those conversations that has changed my live forever. She has taught me more in just 30 minutes than all pod casts, books and itinerant preachers could ever teach me.
When I look into her dark eyes, I see so so much. I see determination, I see courage, I see love, I see peace, but above all I see STRENGTH. A strong woman, a woman of substance, a woman who really means it when she says it is well with her soul.
She glimpses to the side and as I am connecting with her one woman to another, I see her strength but I also I hear her heart, a heart that has had to live with so much grief that I wonder how it still manages to beat.
A heart who has had to face so many tragedies, just to mention a few:
* A single mom of 4
* Burried her 12 year old daughter this year
* Her 19 year old daughter is becoming a mommy very soon
* Makes about R500.00 on a good month
* Leaves her tin home at 4:30am to arrive to scratch in my rubbish at 6:00am, in order to miss the rush of all the people who all are after the “good rubbish”,
YOU GET GOOD RUBBISH?
* She leaves our complex at 6pm and gets home at 8pm.
* She prepares her things at her home and if a few hours gets up again to come scratch in my rubbish.
She tries to disguise her pain by laughing, but it is so evident in her eyes and in the wrinkles on her face.
If I had to live one day in her shoes, I would curl up like a baby and cry, cry, cry, cry until I can cry no more, and then I will start to scream until I can scream no more.
There’s a gentleness, gracefulness, quietness, and a beautiful peace about her that I don’t often see in so many woman with their died hair, tan can tan, gel nail tips, lengthened eye lashes, air con cars, 5000 m2 homes. That I don’t always see in my life :(
The odds are so against her, but she has defied them, those odds have been smashed too pieces by the strength of this woman.
Next time you drive by in your car (which by the way only 8% of the world’s population have), where was I? Oh yes next time you drive by “just another” lady scratching in yr rubbish, in your air conned car and think she’s not worth getting your attention, cos she’s just “another” one of the thousands. Know that she has a name, she has a heart, she has hopes, and she has dreams.
She is a person that needs an act of kindness; you might be the answer to her prayer.
HER NAME IS LIESBET!!
She is a woman of worth, she’s a woman of dignity, she is a woman of value, she is a Princess of our King, she’s a daughter, she’s a mother, she’s a grandmother.
She has a name and her name is Liesbet.
Yes, her occupation is to scratch in my rubbish, but she is far more qualified for living this life than I am.
SHE IS MY HERO
SHE IS MY ROLE MODEL
Did I mention, her name is Liesbet?
I honestly believe you have a clearly noticeable talent for writing and seeing the value in people. Keep going and thanks for helping me relook at what I have all the way here in the US.
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